A Dagger Through The Hart
by Maati4121
Summary: Jonathan and Jennifer return to Tennessee to investigate the attack on Alanna Morgan who is in a critical state in a Nashville hospital. Sequel to A Song From The Hart. This story is not yet complete, but I'm sharing a sneak preview for those that have been waiting for the story to continue. Thanks for your interest, feedback welcome!


**A SONG FROM THE HART - THE ENDING**

Jennifer squinted as she leant forward, tugging the paper straight and snapping the typewriter's margin holder in place. Hearing footsteps behind her, she glanced back and smiled. "Hi, darling."

Jonathan stood behind her and watched her for a moment before leaning forward and resting his chin on her head. "What'cha doing?"

She began typing. "Finishing this article on Jillie."

He slid his arm across her collarbone and kissed her cheek. "Can it wait?"

"The deadline has passed."

"She doesn't care, she's on her way to Hawaii with her newest man. And JJH doesn't need the publicity."

She tipped her head. "What are you suggesting?"

"That we should rest to get over the jet lag."

She laughed, raising her fingers to his cheek. "But I don't feel the least bit sleepy."

He lowered his face, his mouth barely a breath away from hers. "Sounds like a bit of vigorous exercise could do the trick."

She smiled coquettishly. "I might need your help with that."

He palmed her arms and raised her to her feet. "Your wish is my command."

She slid her arms around him as he closed his mouth over hers, falling easily into his embrace.

The kitchen door swung inward and Max strode purposefully into the living room. "Sorry to disturb you Mr H, Mrs H, but you mind if I put on the TV? I've got a dead cert running at 3 o'clock."

Jonathan smiled down at his wife. "No problem, Max, help yourself." With one hand on her shoulder, he began to lead her toward the stairs. "We're going for a lie down."

Max nodded knowingly as he stabbed the remote control toward the television.

"Breaking news. Country superstar Alanna Morgan has been admitted to hospital in Nashville with life-threatening knife wounds following an unprovoked attack at a Nashville mall. Miss Morgan was with her 9 year old daughter Tanya shopping for birthday gifts when an unknown assailant attempted to grab the child. Miss Morgan was attacked when she intervened. The child was unharmed. More news on this as we receive it."

Jennifer swung around toward the set, her face pale, her jaw slack. " _What_?"

 **A DAGGER THROUGH THE HART - THE STORY CONTINUES**

 **1**

Glen Russell inhaled deeply on his cigarette, the nicotine doing little to alleviate his anxiety as he paced impatiently outside the front doors of Nashville's Baptist hospital. He squinted as he watched the familiar dusty blonde head of his manager Terry Kraver as he wormed his way with difficulty through the crowd of press that hospital security was struggling to contain.

Glen dropped his cigarette to the floor and ground it out with an aggravated heel as Terry reached him with a puff of exertion. "Where the hell have you been?"

Terry straightened, his hand immediately seeking the familiarity of the mobile phone in the pocket of his jeans. "I couldn't get out of the office for all of the calls."

Glen jerked a hand toward the flashing bulbs and shouting voices. "Can't you do something about _them_?"

Terry slid a hand onto Glen's forearm and firmly led him back inside the hospital and away from the invasive cameras. "How is she?"

Glen shook his head, covering his eyes briefly with a hand that betrayed his fear with a tremor. "I don't know. _I don't know_." He flipped up a hand and paced a circle. "They haven't told me anything since she was taken into theatre."

"How bad is it?"

Glen clenched his jaw. "Bad. Two in her stomach, one through her ribs, some on her arms, one at the bottom of her throat."

Terry hissed with concern. "I'd hoped the press were exaggerating."

Glen squeezed his eyes shut against the wave of pain, worry, guilt that coursed through him. "They don't know the half of it. She bled bad, man, I don't know if she's gonna make it this time."

Terry squeezed his forearm. "She's strong, you of all people know that."

Glen released his breath on a huff. "I should've been with her, I should've _known_."

"Richard was nowhere near her."

"What difference does it make? We both know it was him who orchestrated it."

"They won't revoke his bail if they can't prove he was connected to it."

"He's too smart for that." Glen collapsed backward into a chair in the lobby. "I can't lose her, Terry. I don't know what I'll do if I lose her."

Terry dropped down beside him. "Don't think like that. You've got to be strong. Think of those kids. Where are they?"

"At home with Hilary and Doris. I've told them not to let them out of their sight."

Terry nodded. "Was Tanya hurt?"

Glen cleared his throat. "No, no, just frightened."

With a glance around at the bustling A&E reception area, Terry rose to his feet. "Let's go to the theatre waiting area, they'll go there first with any news."

In a daze and on legs that were reluctant to support him, Glen followed Terry as resignedly as a condemned man.

 **H2H**

"Anything?" Jennifer's eyes questioned her husband with hope as he hung up the phone in the kitchen.

Jonathan shook his head sadly and sat beside her at the kitchen table. "Nobody's answering. No doubt they're inundated by calls from the press."

"Glen?"

"His mobile is turned off."

"He must have a manager or agent that could get hold of him."

He nodded and returned to the phone, lifting it from its cradle on the wall. "You're right. I'll try Jeff." He punched a few numbers then held the receiver to his ear, waiting. "Diana, good afternoon, it's Jonathan Hart - is Jeff around?"

"Oh I'm sorry, Mr Hart, he's on his way to Baptist Hospital. Can I help you?"

"We've just heard the news about Alanna and we're trying to find out what's going on."

Diana released a sigh of concern. "You and the whole town. All we know is it's serious and she's in surgery." "Where was Glen when it happened?"

"Here in the studio. Alanna was with him, she only left because Tanya was restless so she took her to the mall. It all happened so quickly."

"She must've been followed."

"Yes, sir. No other way they would've known she'd be there, she didn't plan it."

"Is Glen with her now?"

"Yes. He's real broken up."

"I can only imagine. I've been trying to get hold of him but his mobile is not connecting – do you know any way I can reach him?"

"Why don't I give you his manager's number? He won't be far away."

"Great." Jonathan grabbed a pencil and scribbled the numbers as Diana recited them. "Who shall I ask for?"

"Terry."

"Thank you, Diana."

"You're welcome. And Mr Hart – we're all so grateful for how you got Richard away from Alanna. I sure hope this isn't his way of forcing her back, if she makes it."

"That's crossed our minds too."

"Please let us know if you hear of any updates, we're all worried to death."

"I sure will."

 **H2H**

Glen reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a cigarette, flicking it between his fingers impatiently before sliding it onto his bottom lip and pacing the length of the tiny waiting area.

Terry edged forward on a plastic chair and glanced at Glen with unease. "You can't smoke that in here."

Glen flapped a hand. "I'm not." He craned his head up and down the deserted corridor then huffed a sigh. "What's taking so long?"

"They're saving her life."

Glen kicked the toe of his cowboy boot against the base of a water cooler. "It's been hours."

"That's gotta be positive, at least they haven't come out to tell you -"

Glen's warning glare cut Terry off. "Don't finish that sentence."

Terry raised his palms in surrender. "Let them do their work." He felt a vibration against his thigh and fished into his pants pocket, tugging out his mobile phone.

Glen's patience thinned. "Who the hell is that?"

Terry lifted a calming hand and raised the phone to his ear. "Yeah?" He listened for a moment, eyeing Glen with a crooked brow. "It's for you."

Glen resumed pacing and yanked the cigarette from his mouth. "I'm not talking to anyone."

Terry offered him the phone. "It's Jonathan."

Glen paused, the merest hint of pain reflected in the cross of his brow. Eventually, he nodded and took the phone, stepping into the corridor before he lifted it against his cheek. "Jonathan?"

The voice that met him was tense with alarm and concern. "Glen, talk to me – what's going on?"

Glen rubbed a palm over his face. "I don't know. She's in surgery."

"How bad is it?"

Glen swallowed hard, his throat aching. "Bad."

Jonathan paused, chewing his cheek to stop the question that pressed for more detail knowing that Glen was not in a position to discuss it unemotionally. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Glen toed a bump in the flooring at the edge not quite flush with the wall and released a tremulous sigh. "I don't think the real intention was ever to take Tanya, it was always to get Alanna but it had to look like something else. Don't guess we'll know for sure."

Jonathan absorbed the information thoughtfully. "You think this came from Richard?"

"Who else? He's angry, but why grab the child and draw attention to himself? He can't take care of her. It had to be a threat to Alanna."

"By trying to kill her?"

Glen pressed his eyes shut against a wave of pain. "No, he wants her frightened enough to drop the charges and go back to him."

"Would she?"

"You know she's done it before. If the risk is strong enough against the kids."

Jonathan released a slow breath and pressed his bottom lip forward. "Any idea who did it?"

"None."

"Okay." Jonathan flicked a finger against the base of the phone as if reaching a sudden decision. "Jennifer and I will fly back and start digging around."

"Don't put yourself back in the firing line. I don't trust this canny bastard."

"We're not going to bow down to this however smart he is. And you make sure Alanna doesn't."

"If she pulls through it -"

"She will. She hasn't come this far without being strong. And if you need to get Tanya somewhere she won't be looked for, get her and Hilary over here to California, or even to our ranch. Richard won't know to look for her there."

Glen took a breath to object, or even express his gratitude, but his voice failed.

Jonathan felt the unspoken message. "See you when we get there."

As he clicked the receiver into the cradle, Jennifer slid her hand onto his forearm, her face pale with concern at the side of the conversation she'd heard. "Shall I pack?"

He nodded, his expression grave as his eyes found hers. "We've got to find a better way to shut him down. Because I don't think he'll stop until she's dead and he's clever enough to get away with it."

 **H2H**

"Mr Russell?"

Glen flipped the phone closed and whirled around at the sound of his name. He felt the blood plummet from his face at the sight of the surgeon before him, his expression grey with fatigue. He had the sudden impulse to flee, terrified of the news he was about to hear. "Yes?"

"Your wife -" The young surgeon stopped himself and winced apologetically at the incorrect terminology.

Glen swallowed with difficulty, apathetic to the infraction. " _Yes_?"

"We're confident that we've curbed all of the internal bleeding and sutured where possible. We're keeping the transfusion of blood to a minimum, we need to be cautious against the risk of complications that she's too weak to fight. This is obviously dependent on her reactions and progression, we may need to adjust treatment accordingly."

" _But_?" Glen prompted him onward with a raised hand. "She'll be alright?"

"It's far too early to make any sort of concrete prognosis. Her body has suffered a major trauma. She is as stable as she can be at this stage and she has a long road to recovery ahead of her. But we'll take it a day at a time and stay positive." He smiled wearily. "She's battled every second so far."

Glen's breath dashed out of him in a whoosh, his dizzy mind trying to comprehend the words. "What now? Can I see her?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. It'll be a little while before she's out of recovery and they'll take her straight to intensive care. She'll be heavily sedated for a number of days yet." His eyes softened with kindness. "I suggest you go home and get some rest. We'll do our best for her here."

Glen shook his head. "I'm not leaving her." He snatched his gaze across to the doctor, aware that his comment sounded curt. "Thank you, sir."

He nodded with understanding. "Make yourself comfortable. One of the team will update you with any progress." He hesitated, as if to continue speaking, then turned and walked away.

Terry rose to his feet and joined Glen, holding his hand out for the return of his mobile. "I'll call Ben, organise a statement for the press."

Glen frowned for the hint of a second, as if unaware of his surroundings. Snapping back, he dropped the phone into Terry's hand. "No. Don't."

Terry thumbed the phone open. "Why?"

"And tell them what?" He waved a hand. "Let them wait."

Terry tightened his jaw, aware that Glen's emotions were taking priority over reason. "She's a public figure, Glen. There's millions of people out there waiting to hear that she hasn't died."

Glen's eyes narrowed with fury. "And what about the one that might be hoping she has? Or wants to make sure she does? The one that knows that if she's gone he'll get custody of a child that isn't his, because nothing legal has been proved otherwise." He clenched and released his fist. "He knows damn well I have no authority over the child yet, I can't even get her to safety without risking the state getting involved."

Terry sighed audibly. "You're overreacting."

"And he wasn't overreacting by orchestrating this attack in the first place?"

"You don't know that for sure."

"Oh hell what's wrong with you? You've known him as long as I have. You even got your jaw broken by him 10 years ago – have you conveniently forgotten that?"

Terry kept the irritation from his voice. "That was totally different."

Glen scoffed. "Your memory is short. His behaviour might be more brazen and erratic but his motives haven't changed. And you know damn well it's not the first time he's paid to have Alanna attacked."

Terry blinked and kept his voice level. "That was never proven."

Glen's eyes darkened. "If you're gonna become the founder member of his fan club then your feet better hit the road."

Terry released his breath slowly. "I'm just trying to be rational."

"I'm only interested in you supporting me and the woman who's lying down that hallway fighting for her life because of that greedy jealous bastard who wants her back as the puppet on his string." Glen gestured with his arm. "She's had it all her damn life from some asshole and she deserves some peace."

Terry frowned. "What does that mean?"

Glen waved him away. "Forget it. I don't care if she never sings another note, as long as she's happy." He rubbed a hand down his face. "I don't want her to die for her to be free."

 **H2H**

Richard Johnson ran a hand over his clean shaven jaw, still unaccustomed to his face without a beard. He paused, his eye catching his bare ring finger. It looked, felt, foreign without it and he thumbed the spare space, rubbing the callous at the base of his finger that the ring had caused. Glancing back to the bathroom mirror, he considered his reflection, his grey eyes as cool as steel despite the activity they shielded in his mind. He had to be quick, clever. He had never needed to draw on his wits more than now.

A familiar sound jerked his attention and he turned his head, dropping his gaze down to the television that operated quietly on the cabinet opposite the hotel bed. He stepped out of the bathroom and bent to twist the dial, Alanna's familiar voice greeting him from the small speakers. A number one from 10 years before. He knew them all, had even written some.

He waited for the excerpt to finish and the camera shot back to the anchor-man. "Alanna Morgan remains in critical condition in Nashville Baptist Hospital after undergoing extensive life-saving surgery earlier today. Her office has not yet issued a statement, but a hospital source confirmed that the initial surgery is complete and she remains in intensive care. Miss Morgan was shopping at a Nashville mall when she was the victim of an unprovoked attack by an unknown assailant and sustained multiple stab wounds. Glen Russell has requested that his and the family's privacy is respected during this grave and trying time. More updates as and when we -"

Richard flicked the set off then scooped up a handful of change out of a cheap shell ashtray adjacent to the telephone. He fingered through it to ensure there was sufficient for his needs then pocketed it along with his room key and swept out of the door. He jogged across the street to the Wendys restaurant and ducked inside, immediately making his way to the dim corridor housing the restrooms and public telephones. He lifted the receiver of one and fed it with two quarters before punching in a number he'd memorised. He turned his back toward the corridor to shield his face as he waited for the call to connect.

"Yeah?"

Richard paused, drawing a slow breath in through his nose. "You went overboard."

The voice at the other end huffed an anxious sigh. "It happened so quickly. I panicked."

"What if she dies?"

"Will she?"

"Worse – what if she lives with no life quality?"

"Is that possible?"

"I don't know. Depends on how much blood she lost, how quick they got to her."

There was a hesitation at the other end of the line. "Then what?"

"She's no use to anyone if she can't sing."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I need you to stay in town for now, keep an eye on things."

"It's too risky."

"You're in a better position than me to keep updated on her condition."

"And?"

"If it starts looking like she won't recover, you'll have to finish the job."

The voice keened. "I don't know about this. You just said to try to grab the kid, scare her. You never said anything about murder."

"I'm not paying you to keep screwing up. So you'll need to sort it."

"Yeah, about the money -"

"You'll get it."

"I could do with some now."

"Your girlfriend not supporting you?"

"It's not that. I told her I got a job. She'll expect me to be paid."

"You will."

"When?"

"Haven't you been keeping up with the headlines? All of my accounts are frozen until this legal bullshit is over. They're watching me like a hawk."

"Wait a minute, I'm not -"

"If you renege on our agreement, no doubt the press will be interested to hear the identity of the man responsible for the attack on their beloved country superstar."

Silence for a long moment. "Even you aren't stupid enough to do that. I'll sing your name all the way to the courthouse."

"Then we'll see who's better at this game." Richard paused, allowing his words to penetrate. "Maybe when she wakes up she'll identify you anyway. But I'm sure you've already realised that." He smiled slowly, enjoying the tease. "Stay in touch." He clicked the receiver into place and ended the call.


End file.
